


The Night the Amnesty Came Through

by clgfanfic



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cause for celebration!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night the Amnesty Came Through

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Devil's Hole #5 and later in One in Ten #6 under the pen name Nancy Platte.

"I really am _very_ sorry, gentlemen," the manager said for the tenth time since Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had arrived at the capitol's best hotel, less than a half-hour earlier.  "If the Governor had just informed us of your arrival sooner…"  He trailed off, shaking his head, as he inserted a key into the ornate lock set into a thick, polished oak door and opened it.

          He entered the room first, his nervous gaze sweeping over the interior of the third best suite in his hotel.  Everything appeared to be in place – food, drink, wood for the fireplace, flowers.  He sniffed the air, catching the soft scent of sweet oils in the two waiting hot baths in the bathing room.  "I'm sure we can–"

          "This'll be just fine," Heyes assured the anxious man, stepping in behind him and looking around, a grin on his lips.  He was getting tired of watching him fidget, and he'd heard more than enough apologizing.  All he wanted was a hot bath, a good meal and a good night's sleep.  Oh, and a little time alone with the Kid to celebrate their good fortune.

          "Are you absolutely sure?" the manager asked, wringing his hands.

          "Absolutely," the Kid replied, trying to suppress a smile as he glanced around at the almost frilly décor, the flowers, and the large, cold hearth.

          "Well, if you're sure…"

          "Absolutely sure," Heyes echoed, wanting the man to leave.  "Thank you."

          The manager nodded, the motion reminding both men of a chicken bobbing for grain.  "There are fresh baths already prepared, and new clothes await you in the wardrobe.  Oh, and a meal will be sent up at precisely six, this evening.  The bar is stocked, and–"

          "Why don't you just let us explore for ourselves," the Kid interrupted.

          The manager's eyes rounded, his gaze darting between Curry's face and the six-gun tied down on his leg.  "Yes.  Why, yes, of course.  Fine.  Fine.  I'll leave you gentlemen, then."

          "That would be fine," Heyes said, stepping forward two paces and forcing the manager to back out into the hall.  When he opened his mouth, no doubt to apologize again, Heyes closed the door and turned the lock.  It clicked loudly into place.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Nervous little fella, don't you think?" the Kid asked with a grin and a shake of his head.

          Heyes turned, then nodded, a grin of his own on his face.  "Well, Kid, you have to admit, it isn't every day he has Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry registered – as big as day – in his hotel."  He shook his head as he glanced around the comfortable room.  "Can you believe this?"

          "That we're in the Honeymoon Suite?" Curry asked, walking over to toss the saddlebags he'd been carrying over his shoulder onto a plush, rose-colored chair.  Heyes handed him his as well and they were dropped on top.

          "Kid, I wouldn't care if they'd put us up in a privy!" Heyes said, crossing the room and grabbing his partner by the arms.  "We did it!"

          The blond met Heyes' excited gaze, grinning like a madman.  Then he whooped as loudly as he could.  "That we did, Heyes!"  He grabbed his partner's arms and spun him around.

          They lurched around the room in a parody of dance, laughing and shouting in wild abandon.

Finally, out of breath, they both collapsed onto the biggest feather bed either man had ever seen.  They lay on top of the white, lace-covered spread, trying to catch their breaths.

          "Amnesty," Heyes gasped.  "Am-nes-ty!"

          "It's sure got a nice ring to it, don't it?" Curry asked.

          "It sure does, Kid.  It sure does."  Heyes sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around the suite again.  He giggled.  The Honeymoon Suite.  He chuckled a little louder as he shook his head.  He would always remember the manager's scandalized expression when he'd been forced to tell them that they'd be staying in the suite usually reserved for newlyweds.  He glanced over at the Kid.

          _Guess we qualify_ , Heyes thought.  After all, they hadn't been lovers all that long themselves.  Not that he could tell the manager about that.  The slender, chicken-necked man would have probably fallen over in a dead faint if he did.  The mental image made Heyes chuckle again.

The Governor and his wife were staying in the aptly named "Governor's Suite" – the second best accommodations in the hotel – since visiting royalty from a country neither Curry nor Heyes had ever heard of before had already taken the "Presidential Suite" – the very best the hotel had to offer.  That left the Honeymoon Suite for the two most successful outlaws in the history of the West, or so the press was describing them in the articles being published across the country, announcing their long awaited amnesty.

          "No more posses to worry about," Curry sighed, wiggling deeper into the huge feather bed.

          "Or bounty hunters," Heyes added.  He wasn't exactly sure how he felt.  Relief, joy, and fear about their future all surged through him, one dominating one moment, another the next.  "Ah, Kid, I have to admit – I wasn't sure we'd ever actually see this day…"

          "Me, either," the blond admitted.  He reached out and rested a hand on Heyes' back.  "But you said we would, Heyes, and I believed you."  He grinned up at his partner, even though the dark-haired man was staring off across the room, apparently at the huge collection of flowers that sat on a small round table, taking up one corner of the room.  "And here we are!  Damned if you weren't right!"

          Heyes nodded.  "Yeah, here we are… free men."

          "And stayin' in the best hotel in the territory," Curry added.

          Heyes looked down, meeting the Kid's gaze.  "In the… Honeymoon Suite."

          Both men dissolved into gales of laughter, Heyes eventually flopping back onto the bed, holding his sides as they began to ache.

          Curry hiccupped, then said, "Maybe we better go take that bath, before the water gets cold."

          "Good idea," Heyes agreed, sitting up, still holding his ribs.  He stood, continuing to laugh softly as he quickly undressed, tossing his trail-dirty clothes into a waiting woven basket sitting empty next to the cedar wardrobe.  Someone would fetch them to the laundress tomorrow.

The Kid did the same.  Then, naked, they headed into the second room, finding the water still steaming.  They climbed into the twin claw-foot tubs, sinking into the welcome warmth with echoing contented sighs.

"Now _this_ is the way to live," Curry said, sliding beneath the water until his chin was touching the surface.

"I couldn't agree more," Heyes replied, resting back against the tub, his eyes closing.

The Kid reached for the scented bar of soap and the scrub brush waiting for him on a small stool positioned next to the tub.  "How long do you think we can stay?"

"Not sure.  But I say we make a tour of all the best hotels in the West," Heyes suggested.  "I'll bet we could afford it, too, even if just a couple of the offers we've been getting are only half-honest."

Curry shot his partner a surprised look.  "Heyes, you're really gonna let some eastern dandy write about our lives?"

The dark-haired man shrugged, then sat up and reached for his own soap and brush.  As he worked up a lather he asked, "Why not?  Nobody's going to believe any of it anyway – not with all the offers out there for us to sell our stories to the dime novelists."  Heyes' expression turned serious and he met Curry's curious blue gaze.  "But you know, Kid, it would be kinda nice to have the real story out there, too," he said, his own dark brown eyes twinkling mischievously.  "For posterity."

Curry made a face.  "Heyes, we ain't got any posterity."

"Yet," the dark-haired man replied, the wicked twinkle in his eyes still dancing merrily.

The Kid tried to look hurt, but it was hard – impossible, in fact.  He knew that look, and it made his groin tingle pleasantly.  If the past was any guide, it was going to be a very interesting evening.

"What're you saying?" he continued, enjoying the fact that he felt lighthearted enough to really enjoy teasing Heyes.  The last month or so had been tense – a posse and a couple of bounty hunters almost catching up to them before the telegraph found them, telling that that the Governor had finally come through.  "You plannin' to start lookin' for a wife?  Make some posterity?"

"Maybe," Heyes said, his eyebrows peaking and his tone considering.  Then his voice shifted into a husky promise.  "But not tonight…  I've got other plans for tonight."

"Oh, Heyes, I was hopin' you'd say that."

The wolfish grin Heyes leveled on him made the Kid squirm in anticipation.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

A half-hour later the two men were scrubbed clean and dressed in their second set of clothes, the respectable suits that they'd found hanging in the wardrobe still there, although they had tried them on.

"Heyes, how do you think they knew those clothes would fit the two of us?" Curry  asked as he knelt, building a small fire in the fireplace.

"I don't know, Kid.  But I'd be willing to bet that the little fella with the measuring tape who was sneaking around behind us over in Lom's office the day before yesterday might've had something to do with it."

 _God, has it only been that long?_ Heyes wondered.  The word had finally reached them three days earlier.  Luckily they were already on their way to Porterville, ready to beg Lom to go see the Governor again after just dodging capture three times in the past five weeks.  They'd spent what was left of their stake the following day, taking the train the rest of the way.

Then it was on to Cheyenne to see the Governor.  Tomorrow would be the "big day" – a public ceremony to seal the private one they'd had in the Governor's office late this morning.  The man seemed honestly proud of them.

A knock at the door scattered Heyes' thoughts.  He walked to answer it while the Kid reached automatically for his gun, the sound of it slipping free of its holster clear in the room.

Heyes paused, looking back over his shoulder.  "Kid, I really don't think you're gonna need that," he said, nodding at the Colt in Curry's hand.

The blond offered a half-shrug as an apology, then slipped the weapon back into his holster.  But he stood, ready to react if there just happened to be trouble waiting for them.

Shaking his head, Heyes turned and opened the door.  In the hall was a pretty young woman, standing behind a cart that rode on two large wheels.  Stacked on the rolling device were several china plates and bowls, each covered by silver lids.

"Your supper, sir," she said, an Irish accent clear.  She kept her gaze down, and dipped slightly on one knee.

"Thank you, it smells wonderful," Heyes said, stepping back to allow her to roll the cart into the room.

She did, setting a brake, then swiftly moving the plates and bowls to the two-person dining table sitting in another corner of the room.  Once that was done, she removed the silver lids, poured their first cups of coffee from a silver serving pot, leaving it on the sideboard, then lit the five candles in the candelabrum taking up the center of the table.

Heyes tipped her, and with another curtsey she took the cart and left.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The two ex-outlaws sat down to enjoy their steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, fresh vegetables, and biscuits with fresh churned butter and wild honey.  They washed it all down with coffee – the best they'd tasted outside of San Francisco – and expensive brandy from the small bar.  But they saved the best for last – two huge slices of homemade peach pie, still warm.

When they finished, they carried their desserts and brandy over to the hearth where the small fire Curry had started earlier was now snapping merrily on the hearth.  Setting their plates down for a moment, they pulled over two of the plush chairs and sat down to finish their meal in the warm glow of the fire.

"You know, I could get used to this," the former leader of the Devil's Hole Gang admitted after savoring his first bite of pie and sighing contentedly.

"Well, Heyes, the way I see it – the way you tell stories," Curry said, "you ought to be able to talk a fortune out of those eastern publishers."

The dark-haired man grinned.  "Maybe, but I'm thinking we ought to invest some of the money we make telling tall tales in the new machines I told you about."

"Electric lights and a moving picture machine?"

Heyes nodded.  "The very ones.  I don't know what it is, Kid, but I have a hunch that this Edison fella might be on to something.  He's pretty smart."

"Whatever you want, Heyes," the Kid replied around a bite of pie.  His eyes closed as he enjoyed the wonderful taste.  After he swallowed, he added, "Just so long as we don't have to sleep on the ground and eat beans every night for a week – ever again."

"I promise," Heyes said as he leaned forward and set his empty plate on the hearth.  Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his legs and took another swallow of the expensive brandy, a comfortable buzz starting in his head.  "Did you see that bunch of telegrams waiting for us over there on the bar?"

The Kid glanced over, noting the size of the stack, and smiled.  "Think we're more popular now than when we was wanted?" he asked.

"Much," Heyes replied with a soft chuckle.  "I looked through a few of them while you were finishing your bath.  There's no less than five marriage proposals, three book offers, and six invitations to drop in and meet various politicians between here and New York City.  And that was just in the first fifteen telegrams."

The Kid thought for a moment.  "What was the fifteenth one about?"

The dark-haired man grinned.  "An invitation to join a traveling Wild West Show."

Curry's expression brightened further.  "Now _that_ might be interesting."

Heyes nodded.  "They're headed for Europe in a few months and invited us  to come along.  Top billing, no less."

The Kid looked like a small boy who'd just heard the circus was coming to town and he'd been personally invited.  "Well, are we?"

"What?" Heyes asked, unable to resist teasing the blond.

"Are we going to Europe with them?"

Heyes thought a moment, then shrugged and grinned.  "I don't see why not.  I've always wanted to see Europe, maybe meet some Kings and Queens.  And we can make a few stops along the way to New York, see some of those politicians.  Then we can drop in on some of those publishers when we get there, maybe pick up some spending cash before we leave."

"The Show gonna pay us?" the Kid asked, suddenly worried that they might end up sleeping on the ground and eating beans for weeks at a time as they crossed Europe.

"Yep," Heyes said.  "A percent of the take at each performance…  Should be more than enough to enjoy the trip, but I'll make sure we know for sure before we sign anything saying we're going to go."

The Kid gulped down the rest of his brandy, then set the glass down and stood.  He tilted his head back and howled, loudly, as he threw his arms wide.  Then, "We did it!" he crowed.  "We finally did it!"

Heyes watched, a hungry smile slipping onto his lips.  Then the Kid did the unexpected.  He reached up and pulled off his vest.  His shirt quickly followed.  The former leader of the Devil's Hole Gang frowned.

"Kid, what're you doing?  I thought we'd–"

Giggling like a madman, Curry bounced down on the edge of the big feather bed and pulled off his boots, tossing them over next to the wardrobe, then stood and pulled off his pants and long underwear.

Then, naked as the day he was born, Jed Curry climbed up onto the bed, and, standing in the middle, began jumping up and down, whooping like a crazed Indian gone on the warpath.

For a moment Heyes was stunned into inaction.  He just sat, staring at his partner, worried that the man had gone mad.  But then his gaze wandered to the man's poker, flapping against his belly and thighs, and he grinned.  That grin exploded into a broad smile.

Heyes pushed to his feet, undressing as quickly as he could.  And, once he was naked as well, he darted to the bed, jumping up next to the Kid and hollering right alongside him.  At some unspoken cue, they both tilted their heads back and howled like wolves.

The Kid reached down, grabbing a pillow.  He swung it at Heyes, the soft weapon bouncing harmlessly off the man's shoulder.

Heyes grabbed for a weapon of his own.

The two men bounced on the bed, pillows swinging, soft thuds punctuated by infectious giggles and the strained squeak of bedsprings.  Then Curry pulled his pillow back and swung with all his might.  He caught Heyes on the hip, almost toppling him over and setting his arms to whipping around like windmills.  But the Kid's pillow also exploded in a rush of goose down that rained down on the two men and the bed.

The look on the Kid's face made Heyes laugh so hard that he had to sit down in the middle of the bed, watching the fluffy feathers drift slowly toward the floor like spring snowflakes.

"Ah, hell," the Kid muttered, staring mournfully at the wad of cloth in his hand.  "My pillow blew like a H&P '78."

Heyes fell over, roaring and holding his sides as laughter strained the muscles already stretched tight over his ribs.  Tears filled his eyes and he fought vainly to catch his breath.  Curry dropped down to sit next to him, his expression mournful, and every time Heyes thought he finally had himself under control again, the Kid would look at him, or giggle, or blow a feather off his nose and the whole process would start all over again.

It took several minutes before Heyes could finally sit up again.  When he could, he crawled off the bed and collected their empty glasses.  He carried them over to the bar and poured them each some more brandy, bringing them back over to the bed and holding one out to the Kid, who took it.

"A toast," Heyes said.

The Kid held up his glass.  "A toast," he echoed.

They were both a little drunk, but neither man cared.  After all, it wasn't as if they were going to be forced to sneak out of town in the middle of the night because they'd been spotted by a lawman or an ambitious bounty hunter.

"To… freedom," Heyes said.

"To freedom," the Kid repeated, and they both took a swallow.  "And to… honeymoon suites," the blond added.

Heyes grinned.  "To our long awaited honeymoon.  This is the start of a whole new life, Kid… you and me."

They finished their drinks in a single gulp, then Heyes took Curry's glass and set both down on the hearth.  When he turned back to the bed, he found Curry standing behind him, his poker starting to look interested.  Grinning, Heyes took the three steps necessary to join the blond, and, reaching out, slid his hand down the Kid's bare back until he held the curve of the blond's ass in his palm.  The man's butt was firm, the skin smooth except for a light covering of blond, downy hair and a few feathers.  He growled low in his chest and pulled the Kid's groin hard against his own.  Their mouths came together in a hungry, grinding kiss.

The Kid's hands moved to Heyes' chest, plucking off several feathers, then squeezed and twisted his nipples, making the dark-haired man inhale sharply, sucking the air from Curry's mouth and making the blond's cock leap in anticipation.  He moaned softly and pressed his groin harder against Heyes'.

The dark-haired man moaned in reply, beginning a slow exploration of the Kid's body while their kiss deepened, tongues struggling for dominance one moment and submitting the next.  He slid both hands around the blond's waist, narrow and tight, not a trace of the easy life to be found.  The sinews of the man's back moved beneath his hands as he continued the caress, his fingers occasionally digging into willing muscles and prompting a groan or a thrust from the Kid's hips.

Heyes knew without having to reach down to Curry's groin that his lover's cock was already fully hard and definitely eager.  A plan began to take shape in his nimble mind.

Holding Curry tight, still kissing him, Heyes deftly tipped his partner over.

Losing his balance, the Kid fell back onto the feather bed, Heyes landing on top of him, knocking the wind from him and ending the passionate kiss.  They laughed as a feather leaped into the air, but their hands moved across each others' bodies, teasing, caressing, hungry.

"I love your laugh," Heyes whispered softly against the man's neck, then moved before the Kid could, sliding down between the man's legs.  Curry's hard, slightly pink cock, with its hood of dewy foreskin, throbbed in front of his face.

For a moment, Heyes couldn't move.  He stared, admiring the man who had been his best friend, his partner in crime, and, more recently, his lover.  He was beautiful, and Heyes felt his desire sweep over him in a wave that carried away reason, leaving only demanding passion behind.

Reaching out, he caressed the Kid's balls.  The sac was the same shade of golden pink as his poker, and covered in soft, blond fuzz.  He tried to force himself to go slow, but the closed hood of the Kid's foreskin, moist and sticky with precome, was too much, and he surrendered to his need.

Heyes curled his fingers around the Kid, feeling the blond's heat swell against his palm, then lowered his lips to the tip of wrinkled skin.  The familiar salty-sweet taste filled his mouth and he nibbled and sucked on the loose folds of skin for a moment, enjoying the man's unique taste.  It went straight to his head faster than any alcohol he'd ever tried.  Then he drew the hood back, exposing the shiny shell-pink flesh beneath.  The tiny slit pulsed and a stream of clear liquid leaked out.  Heyes licked it away, then stuck his tongue beneath the protective sheath of skin and swirled it all over the head.

"Yessss," Curry moaned softly, his fingers curling into Heyes' dark hair.

Heyes sucked slowly, letting the shaft slide down his throat for a time, then lingered over the sensitive peak until the Kid stopped him just short of coming.

"Heyes, stop," he gasped, forcing the man's head up.

He grinned.  "What do you want, Kid?"

"You _know_ what I want," the blond groaned.

Heyes' grin widened.  "I can give you what you want, but you have to let me go."

Curry smiled, but he let go.  Heyes stood and hurried to the chair where their saddlebags still sat, his poker leading the way.  Behind him the Kid erupted into howls of laughter.  He turned, wondering what had set the man off.

"What?"

Curry tried to talk, but he couldn't.  He shook his head and pointed.

Heyes' forehead wrinkled and he glanced down at himself.  Nothing unusual.  He looked back at the Kid, who managed to roll over onto his side and slap his butt.  He twisted, trying to get a look at his own ass.  It was almost covered with feathers.  Giggling, he rubbed them off.  That done, he turned back to the task at hand.

It only took him a moment to find the bottle of oil, wrapped in a piece of cloth.  He tossed the cloth aside and carried the bottle back to where Curry was ready and waiting.  He had piled the remaining pillows near the middle of the bed, and the blond was draped over them, his ass poking up into the air, a clear invitation.

Unable to resist the offer, Heyes teased his partner's hole until the Kid begged, "Heyes, no more, please.  You promised."

Heyes chuckled lowly, but he poured some of the oil into his hand, rubbing it over his eager cock.  Then he dribbled a little more down the crack of the Kid's ass, making him jerk and squirm.  And, finally, he rubbed some into his lover's hole, using one finger, then two while he watched the muscle grasp at him like a greedy mouth.  He set the bottle on the bedside table.

"Hurry, Heyes," the blond breathed, his ass squirming.

Moving behind his lover, Heyes pulled his own foreskin back and pressed the tip of his slicked cock into the cleft of his lover's ass, then took hold of the Kid's waist and rolled forward slowly, allowing his poker to find its own way.

The round head touched the Kid's hole, and Heyes felt the blond relax, willing him inside.  "You can do it, Kid," he urged.

Curry pushed back, forcing in the head of the waiting cock.

Heyes sighed as his crown was captured by the tight, warm walls of flesh.  "Oh God," he groaned, fighting the desire to ram himself all the way into the tight passage.

The Kid continued to work himself back onto Heyes' poker, devouring him inch by glorious inch until his lean buttocks were pressed tightly against the dark-haired man's pelvis.

Heyes slid his hands down between the Kid's thighs and gripped him there, holding him in place while he savored the overwhelming sensation of being buried inside his lover.  Then he let go and pulled out halfway.  He thrust forward, burying himself a second time.

"Oh God," he repeated.

The Kid turned his head, and Heyes leaned over his lover's back, kissing him over his shoulder.  As he sucked on the blond's tongue, his hips jerked in fast, short thrusts that forced himself in even deeper.

As Heyes pumped, Curry wiggled his ass until he found the right angle.  They both grunted and sighed, their tongues still dueling, their bodies already wet with sweat.

Breaking the kiss, Heyes leaned back, his hands gripping Curry's hips.  He pulled back until only the head of his cock remained trapped inside the hot, tight tunnel, then shoved hard, sliding all the way back inside.

Curry moaned and ground his ass against Heyes' groin.  The dark-haired man's back arched in reply, his fingers digging into the Kid's hips.

"Again," the Kid begged and Heyes complied, ramming into the blond several times with abandon.

"I'm close," Curry cried softly.

"I want to see you," Heyes said.  "Turn over."

The Kid nodded, understanding what his lover wanted.

Heyes pulled out and knelt on the bed.  Curry quickly rolled over, knocking the pillows out of the way, and wrapped his legs around the man's waist.  He lifted his hips while Heyes gripped the base of his own cock, holding himself steady while the Kid worked himself back down on the thick poker.  When Heyes was once again buried as deeply as he could get, they paused, catching their breaths.

The dark-haired man laughed as he leaned forward slightly, plucking several more feathers off the Kid's chest.

Curry squeezed his muscles, letting Heyes know he was ready.

          Holding the Kid's ass in both his hands, Heyes drove into him, gently and slowly at first, then as hard and as fast as he possibly could.  His gaze was locked on the Kid's face.  The blond's eyes were glazed over, the man lost in the pleasure that was overwhelming him.

Heyes leaned forward, sucking one, then the other of the Kid's nipples into his mouth, making Curry's back arch and driving Heyes in deeper.

The dark-haired man leaned back, a hungry smile on his face.  "Touch yourself, Kid," he urged.  "I want to watch you."

Curry began to stroke his own cock, peeling the foreskin back and forth to the same rhythm Heyes pounded into his ass.  Then he began to jerk faster, his soft cries becoming more erratic.

"That's it," Heyes said.  "Do you feel me?  I'm close, Kid, so close."

The Kid's cock spattered precome all over his chest and stomach.

"I'm gonna shoot my seed into you, Kid.  Are you ready?" Heyes asked, then jerked wildly, pounding into the man's ass as deeply as he could.

          With a final cry, Curry erupted, shooting long strands of come all over his and Heyes' chests.  At the same time, his hole gripped Heyes' cock so tightly that the man couldn't fight his building eruption.  It had already started, deep inside of him, a tingling in his balls and his ass, demanding to be set free, but the squeeze of those hot walls of flesh on his poker was too much to be ignored.

          Heyes' own cries rose in pitch, joining the Kid's as his load exploded, again and again, firing into the depths of Curry's bowels, his hips jerking uncontrollably.

When he was finally released from the fist of passion, Heyes slumped over the Kid, panting for breath as his cock slowly softened somewhat.  When he finally slipped free, he laid down beside the blond, one hand stroking over the man's chest, rubbing come all over his skin, occasionally pausing to rub the still-hard nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"That feel good?" Heyes asked.

"Uh-huh," Curry purred, his own hand reaching down to stroke Heyes' half-hard cock.  "Real good."

"I aim to please."

"Think I'd like to make you say please," the Kid whispered, giving the cock in his hand a squeeze.  It jerked in reply.

"Mmm," Heyes said, closing his eyes.  This was the part he liked best.  He almost always took the Kid first, their resulting orgasms making Curry more proddy and him more relaxed.  Then, once they had caught their breaths, it was time for a second hand to be played.  And Heyes was more than happy to let the Kid take over.

Curry moved, the bed shifting.  Then the blond's lips were on Heyes' nipples, kissing, sucking, pulling.  The dark-haired man moaned softly, feeling his cock jerk slightly against his leg.  It would take the Kid a few minutes to coax him back to life, but they were always very pleasurable minutes with Curry's lips, tongue, and hands exploring him, drawing him from the lethargy of his orgasm.

Heyes lay, enjoying the sensations being played on his body as if it were some erotic instrument, letting the Kid do whatever he wanted, and what he seemed to want this time was what Heyes had just had.  Well, that was just fine as far as he was concerned, too.

After another assault on Heyes' nipples, Curry rolled the man onto his side.  Heyes heard the scrape as the Kid pulled the bottle of oil off the table.  A few moments later he felt the first nudge of a fingertip at his hole.  He sighed deeply, enjoying the sensation as Curry first rubbed over the puckered opening several times, then pressed into him, sinking to the second knuckle.

Then Curry paused, twisting his finger around carefully, checking to see how relaxed Heyes was.  When he was sure he wasn't resisting at all, he pulled his finger back out, then inserted two oil-coated digits, pressing them in until they were buried to his palm.

Heyes moaned softly and shifted slightly to allow the Kid to press in deeper still.

With his free hand, Curry stroked the inside of Heyes' thighs, the cheeks of his ass, the man's balls.  He poured more oil over Heyes' ass, and when the former outlaw was bucking back against his fingers, the Kid knew it was time.

He pulled his fingers out, then poured some more of the oil over his hard cock.  Once that was done he rolled Heyes over onto his back, positioned a pillow under his hips, then lifted his legs, hooking his knees over his shoulders.

Heyes' eyes remained closed as the Kid pulled his butt cheeks open, his cock slipping between then, poking at the well-slicked opening.  He leaned forward and pressed hard, the head of his poker popping into the hot opening.  He bucked automatically and Heyes wriggled.  He was buried halfway up the hot chute.

Heyes sighed contentedly, his eyes remaining closed as he enjoyed the sensations that raced through his body as the Kid's cock slowly continued to fill him up.  He felt his own poker stiffen, pressing hard against the Kid's belly, oil and sweat making it slip and slide over the man's skin.  He moaned.

Curry savored the heat that sheathed him for a moment, then started pulling out slow and easy, not stopping until he felt Heyes' hole grab hold of the swollen flange of his crown, trapping him inside.  He rocked back in gently, burying himself again.  Reaching up and pressing the dark-haired man's leg to his chest, he pushed in a little deeper, signing with pleasure.

"That's good, Kid… real good," Heyes whispered, his fingers scrabbling against Curry's flanks, trying to find a good grip and pull him in farther.

The blond grinned as he rocked slowly, gently, staying buried deep inside of Heyes, and the man seemed to enjoy it… for a while.  Then he jerked his hips, trying to force the Kid in deeper.  When that didn't work, he tried to press his ass down, making the Kid pull out a little, but Curry was too much in control and he wasn't able to do either.

Heyes' eyes opened.  "Kid," he pleaded.

"Say it, Heyes."

Dark brown eyes locked on blue and the corners of Heyes' lips twitched.  "Please?"

"My pleasure," Curry replied.

He pulled back, sank in.  Heyes bucked up to meet the motion, wanting more.  He growled low in his throat.

The Kid heard the sound, and knew what it meant.  He picked up the pace, thrusting hard, riding Heyes like the man wanted.

"Yeah, Kid," the dark-haired man sighed, his head rolling from side to side as he danced on the Kid's cock, his own erection trying to knife into the man's lower belly.  "Oh, yeah."

They continued for several minutes, then Heyes' hole spasmed and the Kid began bucking as hard as he could, prodding Heyes' swollen prostate and making him whimper.

"God… Kid," he managed.  "Gonna… come."  Heyes grunted and howled as the first tingles of organism made the hairs on his balls stand on end.  He bucked harder, faster, then started shooting, coating the Kid's belly with his seed.

The feel of hot come whipping across his skin was the last straw for the Kid.  He pistoned in and out, churning his hips, his torso squirming against Heyes' cock as his balls slapped against the dark-haired man's ass.  He gave a small whimper, but thrust again, the whimper getting louder, longer.

Heyes reached out, grabbing the Kid's balls and tugging on them even though they were pulled up tight against the base of his cock.  In response, the blond pulled almost all the way out, then slid back in with a last hard thrust.  Heyes squeezed his muscles, and the whimper turned into a long groan.

The Kid's body spasmed, and he thrashed, pumping a steady load of come up Heyes' ass, one pulse after another.  Finally he collapsed on top of his partner, his face buried against his neck.  "Oh… so good," he sighed.

"Yeah," Heyes agreed, wrapping his arms around the Kid's sweat-coated back.

After a moment they moved, scooting up to the head of the bed, dragging pillows up with them.  They snuggled together under the covers, sweat and come drying or soaking into the sheets.  Within moments they were both sleeping, dreams of a new life, together, filling the hours.

The End


End file.
